


Clarion Call

by Thousandsmiles



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Scott McCall, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chimeras, Doctors are alive, Epic Everybody, F/M, Gen, No Slash, OCs - Freeform, Post an AU 5b, Stiles has a gun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 05:56:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6841651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thousandsmiles/pseuds/Thousandsmiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another sigh and then Scott nods. "Fine," he says, "Fine, but we're going to do this right. We have to do this right." Stiles squeezes his shoulder in support. He doesn't want to do this anymore than Scott does. Lydia twines her fingers in his and gives him a small, sad but somehow reassuring smile. And that's when the fabled pack of Beacon Hills dies. AU. Post 5b.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clarion Call

**Author's Note:**

> So I hope you guys enjoy this really long oneshot. It's the longest I've ever written. This takes place post an AU 5b since I wrote it before 5b and before I saw the trailer for it soooo no Beast of Gevaudan. Anyways, I wanted to do a sort of Scott-centric, Scott-as-leader-fic and then I had some ideas about how the pack could progress and this is what came out. It was sort of my 'in celebration of 5b fic!'  
> Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf.

_“We’re dangerous, Scott.”_

_“And so are they!”_

_“Look, the longer we stay, the more people die.”_

_“And if we leave, people will still die! We have to protect them.”_

_“No, if we leave, less people will die.” There was a pause, an awkward, straining moment of frustration. “They’re coming Scott. And they’re coming because of us. We have to go.”_

_“We have to protect the lives of all the innocent people out there!”_

_“So it’s okay to throw the defenders to the flames too? What are they pawns? What are we? Are we fodder, Scott? Are we?”_

_“Stiles…That’s not what I meant.”_

_“But it’s what you said.” There was another moment of frustration and then, “This isn’t their war Scott.”_

_“It’s everyone’s war.”_

_“It’s not theirs yet. They don’t deserve this. You can’t let them choose this.” A heavy sigh. “Scott we don’t need more graves bearing the names of our friends. We don’t need more people dead than we have to. Yes, okay?! I don’t want those innocent people to die but we’re doing a shitty job for protectors right now.  Scott we’re just creating more fallout. We’re dangerous.”_

_“He’s right,” a new voice says before Scott can reply._

_“If we stay, there’s going to be more death. Scott, I know there’s going to be more death.”A shiver. “I can feel it.”_

_Scott sighs and his shoulders slump._

_“We can’t just leave them.”_

_“We won’t,” said Lydia, “But we can‘t operate from the inside and we can’t operate on the outside anymore. This isn’t their war yet. Hopefully, it will never be theirs.”_

_Another sigh and then Scott nods. “Fine,” he says, “Fine, but we’re going to do this right. We have to do this right.”_

_Stiles squeezes his shoulder in support, sorrow etched in every line of his face. He doesn’t want to do this anymore than Scott does. Can’t bear this anymore than Scott can. Because they’ve lost all the battles and they’re this close to losing the war. All they can hope to do is contain it. Contain its blood red spread within the confines of Beacon County._

_Lydia twines her fingers in his and gives him a small, sad but somehow reassuring smile._

_And that’s when the fabled pack of Beacon Hills dies._

* * *

 

Not too long ago, there was the start of a golden age. I say start because it barely got off the ground, but it was there. A spark, a tiny bit of hope, a glimmer in the dark, salvation in the midst of the red, mercy tempering judgment, a pattern to be followed, a template.

Scott McCall was something, not new, something old. Something that even the older ones with their long memory did not remember, could not remember. He had been bringing back ways long forgotten, ideas long lost or discarded. He’d been giving life to hopes long thought turned to dust until the rumors of what he’d done, what he was doing, brought them to the surface once more.

Scott McCall, true alpha. Scott McCall, true alpha of a pack never seen before. Leader of a group of people powerful each in their own right, powerful even more so for the love that they bore for each other. The Beacon Hills Pack. A powerful pack for a powerful territory.

It would seem strange to think so of a group of teenagers but it wasn’t. It was when you saw them, saw them even the moments of madness and hilarity; and noticed the aura of power they held around them. And aura, it seemed they didn’t, even if everyone around them did.

But the golden age had been crushed barely a few years from its birthing. The Doctors it seemed had won. They would have gotten out, the pack, if the human second, Stiles, hadn’t gotten caught in the warehouse, fallen behind. And of course Scott wouldn’t leave behind his friend, his brother. He had gone for him. The others had waited for them outside of course, they hadn’t realized, hadn’t known that the cavern full of explosives had stretched beneath their feet where they thought it safe.

There isn’t much that can harm a werewolf, more so to kill them completely. But fire can. Fire can.

Our golden age died in a warehouse on the outskirts of Beacons Hills. And there had been nothing any of us could have done. Nothing we could do now but to watch the black stain claim the territory that was theirs. We could not throw ourselves against the black wall that had devoured our golden light.

The wall didn’t spread so we didn’t fight. Our golden age died in our indifference.

I didn’t know which death was worse.

 

* * *

 

It’s been two years since the death of our golden age, two years and though the doctors themselves didn’t leave Beacon Hills, their creations, their chimeras did. They began to crawl out, to kill, to seek us out. They were looking for something, something they thought we, the preternatural, had.

At first it was a shock. We hadn’t expected them to come for us. We had at the first, but not after two years of ignoring the world outside of Beacon County. The black wall had stayed where it was for two whole years. So when the first creepers came, they took us by surprise.

It didn’t start big. Just missing ones, just rumors of seeing things flash in the darkness, glowing eyes for but a moment, mountain ash lines being scuffed over.

Then the deaths began. We are no stranger to death. True, we don’t often encounter trouble but when we do it’s often enough to last for a lifetime. Hunters are not kind, nor are our kind. But these deaths were different; they had feeling of wrongness about them. Things didn’t add up, claw marks of the wrong shape and size. It was enough for us to know something was changing, something was wrong.

Chimeras. Abominations among the monsters. Madness among the chaos. The best and worst of us with none of the weaknesses. We were outmatched.

Packs fell, seethes were destroyed. Banshees screamed and screamed and screamed. And somewhere on the edge of the night that had slammed into us, there was a whisper of an answer, a silent stir of movement.

Stories began, when the next pack failed to be killed; when their attackers suddenly stopped chasing them and vanished into the darkness where they had fallen behind. The attacks were being met and turned back and no one knew by whom.

A pack who were hiding out in a warehouse after being chased by four chimeras reported that when they were fighting the chimeras they swore there were more people who were in the warehouse than there should have been but when the chimeras left and they did their head count, there was the correct number of their people and none of them were dead.

A wendigo said that a coyote chimera was coming after him but it just cried out behind him and he saw it twisting in the street as if it was being shocked. He saw no one else.

There were other stories some more obscure, some less but they were there and no one knew what they meant.

 

* * *

 

_Hey you alright?” asked Scott as he sat down next to Stiles._

_“Yeah, muttered Stiles and he rubbed the bandage on his arm, “It just itches you know?”_

_“Yeah, I remember,” said Scott. “At least it was only five stitches,” he joked._

_Stiles made a face. “Hardy har har. Only five stitches. Damn coyote chimera.”_

_“Nice shot by the way, man” Scott said. “Braeden would be proud.”_

_“My dad wouldn’t,” said Stiles._

_“You know that’s only because he doesn’t want for you to have to shoot anything at all, right?” Scott told him, “Inside I bet he’s pretty pleased that you’re a total epic shot.”_

_Stiles huffed out a laugh then fell silent. “I haven’t spoken to him in five months Scott,” he said quietly._

_Scott swallowed hard. “I know.”_

_“Your mom too, you haven’t spoken to her either.”_

_“I know,” said Scott again. “But they’re alright.”_

_“They’re not alright!” snapped Stiles, “They’re in there. They’re in Beacon Hills! While we’re on the outside like, like, some cowards!”_

_“Stiles,” Scott began._

_“I know!” he said frustrated, “But I, I thought they’d leave. Okay no, but maybe move away from the center. Don’t be so involved.”_

_Scott sighed heavily and leaned back. “That was a pipe dream,” he said, “And I think we all know it.”_

_“We left our parents to die in there Scott,” Stiles whispered._

_“We didn’t,” said Scott. “We’re trying to fix this and they promised they wouldn’t take any undue risks and the Doctors think we’re dead so they have no reason to go after them anymore.”_

_“I know!” said Stiles frustrated scrubbing at his face. “This whole thing sucks,” he said finally._

_“You can say that again,” said a new voice. Isaac settled on the other side of Scott._

_“This whole thing sucks!” said Stiles vehemently._

_Scott laughed a little and then leaned back properly between his two friends and rested._

_“Yeah,” he said. “It sucks.”_

_Stiles stuck out his tongue at him._

 

* * *

 

We were hiding out in a warehouse of our own. Me and my pack. Chimeras had made their appearance in our territory two days ago and they had already attacked our pack den. They had tried to drag some of us away, they’d killed two.

There were five of them and eight of us but they were stronger, different, carried venom. It wasn’t so easy. So here we were, hiding, hoping they wouldn’t pick up the trail we’d tried so hard not to leave. It was a false hope though and we knew it. We’d armed ourselves, took the time we had to get some sort of rest for what would follow after.

It was twilight when they appeared outside. We could hear them, smell them, feel the inherent wrongness of them that permeated the air, slowed it down. They gathered around the outside of the warehouse waiting. It was the closest thing to a call for surrender that anyone had ever had.

There were a few tense moments of silence and then the door of the warehouse was kicked down. One of them stood there, staring impassively at us.

“One chance,” he said, “to come with us peacefully.”

My alpha stood in front of us and said, “No. No we will not surrender to you or your masters. You want us; you’ll have to kill us first.”

The chimera tilted his chin up stubbornly. “Fine,” he said. And his eyes slitted and flared yellow and green. The others crowded into view, framed by the door and started forward. The pack moved back from them a few steps. We had a plan. We hoped like hell it would work.

While the chimeras advanced on us and we gave ground I noticed something. There was a slight rolling clink as if a can or two was rolling on the ground. And the lights outside the warehouse were flickering.

The chimeras heard it too and they paused. They weren’t far enough inside for our plan to be initiated though and it was frustrating. More frightening was the unknown. There was another faint scuffing sound and then the sound of crackling and the faint burn of ozone and the world exploded into smoke.

Ears ringing from the bang we all staggered back. The smoke from the outside poured inside through the shattered windows, obscuring everything.

“Back up!” yelled my alpha, Carl. We backed and ran. There was nothing else to do now. We made our way to either one of two exits it had towards the back of the warehouse. Running, scared, angry and frustrated, eyes watering from the smoke I didn’t notice the chimera until it was almost too late.

I veered in time to keep it from being a killing blow but still the force of it took me off my feet and pitched me hard into some of the machinery still present in the warehouse. Ribs broke, some jabbed eagerly into my lungs. I gasped, blood bubbling up my throat, choking me.

I spat it out and finally managed to get a breath in though it hurt like hell. The breath cleared my fuzzy brain in time for me to notice that my attacker was coming for me. He had almost reached me when he suddenly pitched sideways, staggering. Blood flew into the air as my ears belatedly registered the sound of a shot.

The chimera turned his attention from me to whoever was attacking him. I turned my head to look as well, expecting it to be one of my pack but it wasn’t. Another shot rang out and the chimera instantly began to jerk as electricity coursed though his body.

I should have tried to inch myself away from his flailing body but I didn’t. Because coming down the corridor, emerging from the smoke, were three figures.

* * *

 

_Leaving was harder than Scott thought it would be. It was harder than all of them had thought it would have been like. And knowing, preparing, hadn’t made anything better. In fact, he contemplated; it seemed to make everything worse. It was like all the details you wouldn’t have thought about before jumped out in startling definition._

_He felt someone bump his shoulder and didn’t have to turn his head to know it was Stiles. Stiles let out a slow shaky breath, the one he used to keep panic at bay._

_They were doing this, there was no going back. Not unless they wanted to magically come back from the dead. But that would be too much. Too much of them were ‘dead’ now._

_Scott’s eye fell on Liam, hanging around the edges of the group of vehicles looking lost and alone. They’d managed to persuade Mason to leave Beacon Hills too with his family. They’d moved out a few days before the pack’s ‘death’. The Sherriff had managed to pull some strings to get Mason’s dad transferred to a next job. Mason hadn’t been happy. He didn’t want to leave his best friend. Scott didn’t know what it was that Liam had said to Mason to make him agree to go, but whatever it was had been effective. He was still helping them long distance, still doing the research they mighten have the resources to get to but out of the way, out of danger._

_So Liam, his beta, who wouldn’t have even been here if Scott hadn’t bit him, was all alone, bereft of his best friend and his girlfriend. Hayden too was gone, out of reach but not out of Beacon Hills. She had chosen to sleep under Parrish’s care instead of being at risk of being used against the pack by the Doctors. Hayden was beautiful and practical and smart. Her sister, now inducted into their world, stayed behind to help the Sherriff, especially now that Parrish was gone._

_Speaking of Parrish….Scott’s gaze swiveled to find Lydia. The banshee was linked to the hellhound in a way they all understood but still failed to grasp. She was standing, arms around herself, staring into the preserve where the Nematon probably was._

_Nobody knew where it was now. Not after the last fight with the Dark Beast that the Doctors had freed. Not after Parrish had somehow found the heart of its power and now dwelt there, keeping the dead held and safe for the moment when….well, Scott didn’t know but it wasn’t something bad, that much he did know. The living he kept too, held in bright, dreamless sleep, buried in warm fire._

_Lydia was the only of them who could get close enough to the Nematon now and that apparently was enough for Parrish, wherever he was, to get them._

_When Stiles’ breathing was back to normal, Scott rocked off his motorcycle which he had been leaning on and went to over to Liam. He slung an arm around the beta’s shoulders and watched as Liam first jumped at the contact and then relaxed. He let Scott pull him closer for a moment and gave him a wan but game smile and a little nod._

_He’d be okay._

_“You’re not alone,” Scott told him, earnestly._

_Liam ducked his head for just a moment and then gave him a little smile and nodded._

_“I know,” he said. He looked around at the pack gathered around their various vehicles. “I know.”_

_Scott gave him a squeeze and then released him and went over to Lydia._

_She gave him smile much like Liam’s wan but game and took the hand he offered._

_“Are you going to be alright?” he asked._

_She gave him a look, arched and confident. “Scott McCall,” she said, “I think you know better than to ask that question.”_

_Scott grinned back at her and squeezed the hand he held. “I don’t know if I’m going to be alright,” he said._

_“You have Stiles,” she said, “And me. And Malia to keep you on your toes. You’ll be fine.”_

_Scott gave a mock grimace._

_“What’s that face all about?” asked Kira walking up to them. She took Scott’s other hand, perfectly comfortable to let Lydia have the other._

_“Just thinking,” he said._

_“Far too late,” added Lydia._

_“Is that anything new?” asked Stiles joining them, one arm around Malia’s shoulders._

_“Not particularly,” said Lydia, “But I thought it bore mentioning.”_

_“Guys,” said Scott as they all laughed including Liam whose wolf hearing had caught the whole thing. Kira burrowed into his side still laughing._

_Liam came up to the other side of Lydia and said, “So are we moving or what?”_

_Scott exhaled and looked around at his pack and they looked back at him with trusting eyes. “Yeah,” he said, “Let’s hit the road.”_

* * *

 

It was the one in the middle that drew my attention the most. He was broad shouldered, clad in a leather jacket and jeans, dark hair peaking above the mask he wore. It was a full faced mask, more gray than sliver. It seemed impervious and gave no hints about the face of the man underneath. It did however reveal one thing. The mesh that covered the eyes gave the faint hint of red. Alpha red. His claws were out and he moved with a steady grace between his two companions. But what really drew my attention, what made him so compelling, was the aura of power that wreathed him, loomed behind him. It was as if I could almost see it, the silhouette of a wolf man towering far above his head. But he moved as if it were no burden, as if he had shouldered this part of himself, knew it, controlled it. It was his. It was him.

He should have frightened me. But he didn’t.

Pacing next to him, on his right, was a girl. She had in her hand a katana. Her mask showed only a faint hint of orange that was almost lost among the flames that outlined her. Yet calling them flames was not entirely correct; they arced and snapped like electricity crying out for freedom and being restrained firmly but gently.

On his left was another guy. He too had a leather jacket but there was something strange and bulky about it, though it settled well on him. He carried a handgun in one hand, no doubt the one who had shot the chimera who’d attacked me. His mask hid as much of him as it did his companions and through the eye mesh I could see a solid ring of sliver glowing in the eyes behind it.

True lightning crackled about his form, ruffling his short black hair, cut almost exactly like his companion. He raised the gun and pointed it, at me, I thought before another shot blasted though the air and a body fell next to other chimera. This one however got back up and retreated.

I blinked and suddenly they were in front of me. I realized abruptly that they had been moving much faster than I’d thought they had.

The one with silver rimming his eyes stopped in a crouch before me. The alpha and the girl brushed past us, both intent on joining the fight I was hearing.

The guy in front of me didn’t say anything. He laid his handgun on the ground and pulled me to a sitting position. I coughed up blood and he narrowly avoided getting sprayed on. He waited until I finished coughing, steadying me and then pulled up my t-shirt. Before I could protest he had gripped the ribs poking into my lungs and yanked them back into place.

I doubled over in pain but after a moment the healing kicked in and my head cleared. The other broken rib which was out of place he pulled back into place and then, assured I was fine, he snatched back up his gun and ran to join his friends.

I staggered to my feet, kicked the chimera that lay not too far away from me and then headed towards the back of the warehouse towards the rest of my pack. Most of the smoke had cleared though enough remained to make my eyes water and my throat rasp just a little.

I saw Carl fighting the kanima chimera. He ducked a swipe of its claws but the tail whipped around and sliced him, sending him staggering back. Another girl with the silver-gray mask aimed a crossbow at the kanima chimera and shot him. He took the bolt dead straight but pulled it out like it did nothing to him. The girl quickly loaded a new bolt calmly even as the kanima rushed towards her.

Just as he leapt, she took a deep breath and screamed. For a second his form wavered and then she shot him. The bolt also apparently had an electrical tip.

One of my pack members, Jim, saw me and grabbed me by the arms.

“Kayla!”he said, “You’re alive! I saw you go down. We thought you were dead.”

I shook my head. “I’m okay.”

“What’s happening?” said Jim.

“I’m not sure,” I said.

Around us, most of our pack clustered, ready to take on these newcomers should they also prove to be a threat as well but our concern was proven to have no grounds.

The people in the silver masks were concerned with the chimeras and no one else. I saw a wolf, beta, by the golden hue beneath his mask, take on a chimera that looked like a wendigo, spinning and slashing with his claws and a militarized cattle prod in the other hand. He was fast and moved with a sort of practiced ease that spelt trouble for any opponent of his.

The girl with the katana was doing damage to a chimera that I hadn’t noticed previously which meant that some new ones had come in through the back of the warehouse. If our protectors hadn’t shown up we might have been in serious trouble. She didn’t kill him though; instead she touched the flat of the blade to his cheek and electrical fire flowed along the blade, over him and he fell unconscious.

Another beta wolf with golden eyes paired up with a wolf with blue eyes to take on another of the chimeras. They worked in vicious concert and finally the blue-eyed female beta had the chimera pinned and her partner produced a handheld tazer from somewhere and jabbed the chimera with it. It took a few times but eventually the tazer did its job and the chimera went down.

The alpha came into view struggling with a chimera. Finally he got enough leverage to push her away and then moved back in with a speed that surprised all of us. He brought his claws against the chimera, another wolf, and I could practically see the weight of power he brought to bear in each stroke.

He hurt her, badly, but not enough to kill her and she didn’t seem to heal. Wounds inflicted by an alpha always took longer to heal. It wasn’t supposed to be so for her. We could all see it in her eyes but apparently it was so. Something, someone, had twisted back the rule to normal while we weren’t looking. At least this alpha had.

He knocked her out and then turned towards the back exit. In concert we all turned to see two chimeras escaping that way. Instead of chasing them though, the alpha made a few, quick gestures with his hand.

The boy with the silver rimmed eyes appeared from somewhere. He holstered his gun calmly and reached for the shotgun on his back. He took aim and then there was shiver of sparks from underneath his jacket. His strange bulky jacket.

‘Oh hell,’ I thought.  A battery pack. There was some sort of battery pack under there.

A gleaming rush of power ran down his arms, circled the gun and then, he shot.

The shotgun pellets exploded out, spreading as they are wont to do. But between each of them electricity trailed, criss-crossing to form a net. The net impacted painfully with the two runners and they went down hard.

They guy primed the shotgun, returned it to his back and went after the two chimeras lying outside, the alpha at his side.

I however turned to watch the rest of the warehouse and realized that the fight was over. Most of my packmates were alright, hurt badly, but alright. Carl was upright and steady and he was looking like he was going to start demanding some answers right about now.

The masked people didn’t wait though. They split up and went about their task of collecting the chimera’s unconscious forms, silently and efficiently.

“Stop!” snarled Carl. “Who are you? Where are you taking them?”

They paused, looked at him and then ignored him. He took a threatening step forward.

“I don’t know who you are,” he said, “And I am grateful for your help but there are people who require retribution from those,” He indicated the chimeras. “They have killed too many of ours.”

At that the girl with the crossbow, who had been kneeling next to the chimera kanima, running her fingers though his longish black hair whilst she waited for someone to cart his body out, looked up. She was the only one who didn’t have a full faced mask. It had been made to prettily leave her mouth exposed but the rest of her face protected. Probably to let her terrible scream, the scream of a banshee, out.

“And some others deserve redemption and restoration,” she said coolly, “Alpha you may be but it is still not your right to decide who dies and when.”

Carl clenched his jaw tightly before allowing himself to stiffly nod in acquiescence. One of the betas came and took the kanima’s body and the banshee got to her feet, gave us all a perfunctory nod and walked out after them.

I followed the rest of my packmates to the doors to see what would happen next. What happened next was a unmarked van pulling up and the chimeras being speedily dumped into it. Then the alpha turned to us, outlined by the light of the half moon and gave us all a solemn nod before leaping into the van himself.

The boy with silver rimmed eyes mockingly tapped his finger against his mask where his lips were before going around and hopping into the cab with the mysterious driver.

Another unmarked vehicle turned up and the rest of them disappeared into it and then just like that, they were gone.

 

* * *

 

_They drove all the way into the preserve, Lydia guiding them. After awhile the cars came to the end of the road and then she got out. After a few moments she set off determinedly across the ground. Scott and the others hefted the chimeras over their shoulders and followed her._

_This time they found it fast. Five minutes later Lydia stopped in a clearing and said, “Here. Put them here.”_

_Without comment they placed the unconscious chimeras on the ground and arranged them as comfortably as they could. Then they all backed away and headed for the cars fast. They had just reached them when Scott felt a blast of heat on his back and knew that Parrish had gotten his latest charges._

_They all stopped and looked back for a moment and then they piled into the vehicles and headed for their latest headquarters. Driving out of Beacon Hills has never gotten easier. At least, not for Scott. It pains him, every time that he has to leave. His heart strains against his ribcage, hammering, telling him to go to the people he loved, to save them, keep them safe._

_His brain tells his heart that this is saving them. Walking away like this is saving them._

_HQ is a floor of a banged up apartment building. They all stagger up the stairs and Scott sees that Malia has an arm around Stiles’ waist and is practically dragging him up the staircase. In front of him Kira is weaving and he steadies her with a hand to her back._

_They finally all make it up the stairs and into their home for the moment. Scott drops down into one of the couches and Liam drops next to him, phone out, fingers tapping away at the keys._

_Oh right. It’s about time for him to send a message to his dad via the Mason express. Liam had left a note for his dad, after his parents had received the news that he was dead. It had told his stepdad that he was alive but that he wasn’t to say anything. It had then gone on to say that he would send message periodically but if his dad said anything about the fact that he wasn’t dead, then he, Liam would disappear without a word. Liam had hastily scribbled an ‘I love you’ at the end to both his parents and then disappeared from their lives._

_Dr. Guyer did what any parent who had just had a miracle handed to him. He stayed quiet and lived for the messages that Liam sent._

_Scott didn’t know what Liam said in those messages but he knew that he had never once missed his appointed date to send them._

_Over in the couch opposite to them, Malia let Stiles down gently and then pulled off his jacket, dropped it on the floor and briskly rubbed her hands over his shoulders, back and arms._

_Stiles had his eyes closed, fists clenched tightly, jaw taunt, as pain coursed though his body. The incident with the Nogistune had left Stiles with some changes. He didn’t have increased strength, speed or healing but he was a lot more durable than he was before. In addition to that, Stiles found that he had an affinity to electricity. It liked him and he didn’t get as hurt by it as much he should have. Scott vaguely recalled that Deaton had said that Stiles was like a spark. So maybe that was why that particular aspect had stayed or rather taken hold._

_He’d trained this affinity ruthlessly, no matter how much Scott had tried to get him to take it a bit easier. There were repercussions though. Pain. Stiles body protested every time he had to use the electricity over a specific threshold._

_Stiles didn’t care. He did what he had to do, and damn anybody who told him to stop._

_After about half an hour Stile’s muscles relaxed and he slumped into the couch. By that time, they managed to scrape up dinner and somebody, bless them, shoved a plate into Stiles’ hand._

_Scott had his own plate filled with various bits of food. He swore he had two Hersey’s kisses rolling around somewhere. He grabbed back a seat on the couch and Kira sat next to him and Isaac took the space after her. Stiles was sitting on the floor alternatively eating furiously or staring off into space for long minutes._

_Post battle was always like this. Everybody was always drained. It took lot out of them. Plus today was the first time people had actually seen them properly. Scott didn’t know the ramifications of that though he was sure Lydia would inform him soon enough. At the moment he just wanted to sleep and, looking around his silent, munching, slowly blinking pack, he knew they felt the same._

_When everyone had finally eaten and no one was in danger of dying via asphyxiation from falling asleep mid-swallow, Scott sent them all to bed and took the first watch._

 

* * *

 

We moved out from the warehouse after caring for our injured. Most of our packmembers had healed up fine but not all. We headed out from our territory and into a safe house in another state, watching our backs all the way there. But nothing followed us.

It was only after we had settled into the safe house did we allow ourselves to speculate, to wonder, who our rescuers might be. We had sent out enquires, brief and discrete along the highly encrypted web channels the preternatural were using but so far nothing had tuned up. That didn’t surprise us though.

With the Doctors having a thing for frequencies and electricity, every group was being careful. We’d turn up online only once in a while. The most my own pack had done was to state that we’d been attacked but that we had survived via some strange assistance. Further enquires had been sent out afterwards.

And so we waited and speculated, and at the same time tried not to think about where our speculations were leading us, trying not to think of a long dead pack, a spark of hope that had been snuffed out.

Denial is tiring.

Confirmation is release.

A few months later we wake to find a voice message sent to us, sent to every preternatural that was on our network.

 

* * *

 

_It’s something they’ve all wondered. Why doesn’t everyone just leave? If Beacon Hill’s becomes a ghost town, so much for the better. There’d be no collateral damage then. Battle would claim only those who’d signed up for this._

_Not that that would make losses any easier. They aren’t pawns. Scott still regrets that he can’t visit the cemetery, even if Isaac says that it’s probably the only place they can visit, as anyone who spots them would think they’re ghosts_. _He wants to see their graves again, say his respects, his regrets, whisper his apologies._

_He can still see the headstones Allison’s, Erica’s, Boyd’s, Aiden’s, Carla’s, the she-wolf who had been drawn by the Nematon, Keila and Trixie’s, the nymph sisters who’d been passing through and who’d gotten caught up in their drama, Len’s, the fire breathing something who had come to help them after having heard what was going on, Zale’s, the half-fae who’d turned up, also to help them and Abby’s, the kanima who’d come for a purpose, who’d placed her will in Scott’s hand and who died following his orders. Even kanima’s can’t survive being torn in half._

_Too many gravestones with the names of their friends. Too damn many._

_Scott tore his thoughts away from them and turned them back to the one he’d been musing about. Why didn’t anyone leave?_

_Scott had asked his mom once. She’d told his that this was people’s homes and people didn’t abandon their homes so easily._

_But Scott didn’t think that was the answer, at least not all of the answer. And he wasn’t the only one to think so. There was something about Beacon Hills that drew people, not only the preternatural, something that, until he’d left, he’d never been aware of. It was, it was like a glue that held those in and drew more to itself._

_Stiles theorizes that it has something to do with the telluric currents._

_Scott just wants it to stop. They all do. It’s hard watching the people they try to protect remain in danger, hard to watch new families moving in despite the astronomical crime rate. It’s hard to know his mom’s in there and not planning to leave any time soon._

_Months pass._

_Months pass and they’ve been in so many skirmishes, Scott’s lost count and they’ve had to call in Derek and Braeden. Months pass, and packs keep getting attacked, lone wolves, slaughtered, unknowns being hurt and confused as to why._

_Months pass and human chimeras keep being abducted and experimented on._

_Months pass and they’ve stopped being a secret, stopped being a whisper. People know they’re out there now and it’s only a matter of time the Doctors realize that they’re out there too._

_Months pass and their efforts to contain the spread stop breaking even._

_Months and months and months have passed and Scott knows that their charade has come to an end._

_It’s been two years now and Scott knows they’ve reached their limit, knows that they can’t do this on their own any longer, knows that the fate they’ve struggled to hold back has come knocking on their door again._

_It’s time for him to make the decision he never wanted to make. It time for the pack of Beacon Hills to take their place in the light again. It’s time for them to be a beacon again._

_Lydia knows. Scott thinks that she’s known even before him. Stiles knows too and he gives Scott a nod and smile that shows his support._

_When he tells the rest of them, the mood is grim, but they understand, they know. And he gets their support in their varied ways._

_It’s a momentous moment when he sits down at the laptop to record his message. His pack and his friends are arrayed around him and he glances around at all of them before finally resting at Stiles who gives him a nod._

_Scott takes a deep breath and starts speaking, visualizing all the people at the other end of this message, trying to speak to them, trying to imagine the people who would be the ones listening to this message. Trying to listen to this spark which might, just might, turn into a fire._

* * *

 

The sender says ‘The Beacon Hills Pack’. For a moment me and Jensen just stares at the message and then we look at each other. A million thoughts flood through my mind, a million secret little hopes, a million denials and the fluttering of the wings of hope.

We yell for Carl.

Fifteen minutes later the whole pack is crowded around the laptop and after one look around to make sure everyone is ready, Carl hits the play button and a voice of long dead alpha comes through.

_“Hello. This is the voice of Scott McCall. I know…I know you all think us dead. But the truth is, we are alive. At least most of us. I know you must be wondering why, after all this time, we’ve decided to break the silence and communicate with you. The answer to that is simple:_

_We need your help._

_You see, we thought we could do this on our own. We thought we could make it by ourselves. We thought we could fight this war alone. And we could have, but only for a little while._

_And that time is done. We can’t do this on our own, we can’t make it by ourselves, we can’t fight this war alone, not if we want to win. And the truth is, the truth is I wish we still could because I never wanted this war to be yours. I never wanted you to face what we have; I never wanted you to have to bury your friends and your loved ones. I don’t want you to walk into a cemetery and see familiar names on the stones there._

_It was the reason why we did it all, the reason why we disappeared…..You were coming, you were coming to help us. You were making our war yours and we had to stop that because we didn’t want you to die, we didn’t want this life for you._

There was an exhale, a soft regretful breath.

_But it’s time that I give that choice back to you. I can no longer stop this war from reaching you. We can no longer stop this war from reaching you. We’ve tried. And you have tried. And we’ve both failed._

_This war belongs to all of us now. We haven’t done so great separately but I hope, I hope that we can try again together. I hope that we can work together to keep our family and our friends and our loved ones safe. I’m asking you to work with us to keep all the innocent people out there, safe._

_This is our world. This is our responsibility. This war has spread to all of us. Let’s stop it from going further, let’s stop it from claiming more lives._

_This, this is a clarion call, I guess, a call to arms. And I promise to anyone who answers this, that we won’t disappear again, we won’t step back into the shadows. We’ll be here. We’ll be the frontline in this. We’ll stand._

_This is Scott McCall, true alpha and the Beacon Hills pack. Thank you, for listening.”_

Silence reigned in the safe house. We were all taking in the message, lost in the thoughts it had sparked in our heads.

For myself, I, I couldn’t quite believe it although my hopes, my suspicion were proven true. They were alive. They were all alive and they had helped us. They had saved us and they had saved so many others. And they had run themselves ragged trying to keep us out a war they had struggled against.

They had faked their deaths to keep us from coming to them. They had hid the light to keep us from the eternal dark. Some others might be mad but I wasn’t. I wasn’t because all it meant was that our golden age wasn’t dead. Our spark of light was still alive, still living, still fighting.

And I would fight with them. I would fight with the banshee with the terrible scream but the soft words. I would fight with the boy with the silver rimmed eyes who’d saved my life, I would fight with the girl with the electric fire who’d spared a foe she didn’t have to, I would fight with the two beta wolves, fierce and cunning fighters and the blue-eyed coyote who’d learned mercy and I would fight with the true alpha who wielded such terrible power, with a kindness he didn’t have to show, the true alpha who’d straightened rules that had been twisted for far too long.

And when I looked around at my pack, I realized that they would fight with them too.

We all looked at each other and then Carl said, “Pack it up, boys and girls. We’re going to Beacon Hills.”

And all around the country a similar scene was taking place.

 

* * *

 

_When he finished the message Scott took a deep breath and slid back from out the chair. Stiles took his place and attached it to an email going out to all the groups on the network. When that was done he looked to Scott for confirmation and when Scott nodded, he hit the send button._

_The email went out and Scott let out a sigh and put one arm around Kira and hugged her close to his side._

_“So this is it,” said Derek._

_“Yeah,” said Scott, “This is it. So where are you guys going now?”_

_Derek glanced at Braeden then said, “Oh, we thought we’d stick around for awhile yet.”_

_Scott stared at him in surprise and then said, “Really?”_

_“Really,” said Braeden her tone daring him to say something._

_Scott knew better than that. “I’m glad.” He said instead._

_Braeden huffed out a laugh and Scott knew she was secretly pleased._

_“So what now?” asked Liam._

_Scott smiled at him, smiled at his pack and his friends and then turned to Stiles._

_“Call your dad,” He told him, “Tell him we’re coming home.”_

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Review please! Tell me what you guys thought!


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